masquerade
by towine
Summary: Yukihira's tie is crooked and Takumi can't leave it alone. [SouTaku]


**notes:** for day 3 of sns otp week, "formal event." hopefully i can write a soutaku fic longer than this someday, but for now, i just wanted to get this out in time for day 3 TvT

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The Tootsuki Winter Masquerade Ball only occurs once every three years and for some students that singular event is the hallmark of their time at Tootsuki. Students are required to present elegant dishes for ball guests, ranging from faculty and families to high profile chefs and industry professionals. Because of this, many students go out of their way to plan their dishes far ahead of time. Once cooking is finished, students are free to partake in the ball's events and enjoy the night as the reward for their hard work, which is a merciful respite considering Tootsuki's arduous curriculum.

Which brings them to the second most important aspect of the night: what to wear.

Takumi is no stranger to formal wear. Presentation is not only important for a dish but for the chef as well, and he takes considerable care in making sure his appearance is immaculate. The Masquerade is certainly no exception. His dish takes priority first and foremost, but the last thing he wants is to stick out like a sore thumb amidst the elegant ball gowns and sleek tuxedos.

Which is why seeing Yukihira dress so lazily nearly gives him an aneurysm.

He hasn't even bothered with a jacket, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He supposes he should be thankful Yukihira's at least wearing a vest, but his tie is crooked. Takumi, his arms folded, begins rapidly tapping a finger in annoyance against the fine sleeve of his midnight blue tux.

"Nii-chan," Isami says lightly, characteristic wild hair combed back neatly for once. Most of his face is hidden behind an orange mask, but it is not enough to obscure his amused grin. "You're fuming again."

"I am not," Takumi says quickly. "I'm just floored by Yukihira's complete lack of etiquette."

"Balls are supposed to be fun. Go talk to Yukihira if you want to so badly."

"What on earth makes you think I want to do that?!"

Isami has already taken him by the arm, dragging him towards Yukihira and his group of friends. Takumi briefly considers gnawing his arm off to escape, but it's too late.

When they approach, the residents of Polar Star greet them warmly.

"Takumicchi! Isamicchi!" Yoshino chirps from behind a green mask. "You look so nice!"

"Grazie," Isami says with a grin, and Takumi nods politely.

"You look lovely, as well," he says, which makes Yoshino smile brightly.

The others launch into talk about their assignment in the kitchen not too long ago, about struggling to find an appropriate outfit for the event, and how much they wish they'd play some upbeat music in here instead of the standard classical affair.

Outside the conversation, Yukihira sneaks over to him and says, "Hey, Takumi."

His mask is gold-colored, shimmering beneath the sparkling chandelier lights. He is smiling, but Takumi can see the unusual stiffness in his shoulders. Yukihira has always been buoyed by his own energy and has never bowed down to any force, no matter how intimidating. To see him uncomfortable now is new.

"Yukihira," he says. "Not used to formal events, are you?"

"Pretty obvious, huh?" Yukihira hooks a finger in his collar, pulling it away from his neck with a grimace. "I'm not very good at these things."

"I can see that." Takumi has to bite down on the smile that threatens to emerge on his face. "Here."

He steps closer and reaches out to adjust Yukihira's crooked tie.

"The least you can do is wear your tie straight," he says under his breath while Yukihira blinks in surprise.

He has to undo it to fix it, and for a moment he and Yukihira are quiet. Takumi can feel his breathing, soft and warm against his cheek.

"There," he says after what feels like an eternity. He suddenly feels hot under the collar.

"Thanks," Yukihira says, his usual grin back on his face. His shoulders are relaxed now, and for some reason it makes Takumi feel relieved.

Then Yukihira says, "Hey, can you teach me how to dance formally, too? I don't know anything."

Takumi blushes, hot and terrible. "I—! I couldn't—I, you—"

Yukihira laughs brightly, tilting his head back, and the curve of his neck is infuriatingly enticing.

"Just kidding," he says mirthfully.

Takumi exhales harshly, crossing his arms and looking away. He expected to feel relief but instead he almost feels—disappointed.

Yukihira leans in, as if sharing a secret. "I actually know a little bit. So save me a dance for later, okay?"

He has the audacity to walk away after that, one of his friends calling him over for something. Takumi stares wide-eyed at his retreating back, feeling the rhythm of his heart turn allegro.

When he returns to Isami's side, his brother says, "Everything okay, Nii-chan?"

"Yes," Takumi says, adjusting his shirt cuffs. In a small moment of openness, he smiles to himself. "Everything is fine."

He will let himself look forward to seeing Yukihira again later. Just a little.


End file.
